


The Smell Of The Sea

by BlueCaty



Category: Midnight Poppy Land (Webcomic)
Genre: Developing Relationship, F/M, Fluff, What-If
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-18
Updated: 2020-10-18
Packaged: 2021-03-08 07:55:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,910
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26968612
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlueCaty/pseuds/BlueCaty
Summary: One-shot “what-if” story. A few days after his dream about Poppy on the beach, Tora finds himself driving Quincey to a beach party. But things do not turn out as he expects them to.*This is set up as a continuation of episode 48 of MPL and it is a product of my own imagination. All characters belong to Lilydusk, any similarities to the actual plot of the webcomic are purely coincidental. *
Relationships: Tora/Poppy Wilkes
Comments: 7
Kudos: 56





	The Smell Of The Sea

**Author's Note:**

> Featuring the gorgeous art of Cleide Sousa. You can check her works on IG [ @cleideilustradora](https://www.instagram.com/cleideilustradora/)

"Come on, honey, cheer up! We'll only be there for a short while, I promise." 

"The fuck we will. I know you, Quince. Why the fuck do you insist on dragging me to these shitty beach parties? Ya don't even like half the people there anyway," replied Tora, annoyed. 

He had just recovered from his cold and Princess had already made plans for them. So now he found himself driving His Majesty to a frickin party, surely held by one of the high-class, snobbish people Quincey called friends. He could just picture it. One of those modern houses, with tall glass walls, and large terraces, with a blue heated pool, which wasn’t even on the beach, but on a cliff overlooking the ocean. People drinking and taking selfies with the sunset and the waves behind them, yapping endlessly about fashion, and influencers, and shit like that. The kind of environment Quincey thrived in. If there was a social butterfly in this car, sure as hell it wasn’t Tora. 

"Oh, but I like the cocktails, darling!" said Quincey, smacking his lips. "Just the thought of a cool, glistening, strawberry daiquiri makes my mouth water. I bet even you could enjoy a drink like that!” he added, fidgeting in his seat with anticipation. 

“Whatever. Just don’t expect me to talk to those fuckers. I’ll leave ya to it and call me when ya want to leave.”

“Hmph...I think you will wish to stay this time, Tora,” responded Quincey cryptically, before falling silent for the rest of the trip. 

Tora cast a sidelong glance at his friend and caught him smirking. Quincey seemed so pleased with himself. _What the heck is he up to now?_ Tora thought and took another drag from his cigarette, resting his elbow on the open window of the car. 

It was a beautiful spring day. The car rumbled loudly racing on the highway, into the warm sunshine. They left the noise and the smoke of the city behind, and soon the view cleared up, as green plains replaced the steely skyscrapers of Narin city. They passed large fields, alongside the highway, where wildflowers such as daisies, cornflowers, and orange poppies bloomed freely, in a mosaic of colors. In the distance, the Narin mountains glistened in bluish hues reflecting the sun’s rays. 

_Poppy would have liked this_ mused Tora, remembering her enthusiasm at beautiful landscapes. This was different from the view from Regina’s Peak but no less breathtaking. Tora wondered if this too was another scene she could capture in her paintings. He hadn’t seen her since she left him to sleep on his apartment’s floor a few days ago... _Maybe I scared her?_ he asked himself. Although he was fairly certain that Poppy wanted their kiss just as much as he did. As much as he wished it ever since that peck on the rooftop. It was no mistake. But later… he acted on impulse. That damn cold made his mind a blur and he did not think before he asked her to go to the beach with him. Just that...he needed her. The dream image of her was too strong, he needed to bring her there, to see her like that for real, to make sense of it. The words escaped him, there was no turning back now. He did not regret them, but the radio silence that followed was hard to bear. 

_Fuck, what do you want her to do? You warned her multiple times about you and said goodbye and shit and now you kiss her? And then she disappears_ _and wants nothing more to do with you? Either you scared her or confused the shit out of her and you cannot fault her for that. It’s all on you, thug._

Maybe it was for the best. As much as it pained him to admit it, he could not lose what he never had. And the dreams will go away. Sometime. Instead of her golden dress, he will dream of just the hunger and the waves and the rough hand on his back, reminding him how things really are. He just had to live, each day, one more step towards whatever end was waiting for him. Now, he just had to get through Quincey’s fucking party. 

***

Tora was surprised when Quincey asked him to pull over in the small parking lot on the hillside. There was no opulent house in sight, no sound of people chattering, nor the blasting of music through impossibly noisy loudspeakers. Instead, the sharp cries of seagulls crossing the clear blue sky, the rustling of the waves somewhere at the foot of the hill, and the smell, the raw, fresh, salty smell of the sea. They descended on a path of steep narrow stairs, Quincey leading the way. At the bottom was a beach of fine white sand, radiating heat under their feet. Here and there, among the small dunes, patches of thin grass undulated in the breeze.

Quincey walked with a purpose, crossing the small beach and passing a bend in the cliff. Beneath it, the beach widened revealing their party venue. At the far end of the beach, a square white gazebo was mounted between the sand dunes, its long cotton curtains drawn, swaying lightly in the wind. As they approached the pavilion, Tora smelled food coming from within and noticed movement behind the thin curtains. 

Quincey stopped and turned around facing Tora. He spoke loudly, “I know it is not what you expected, buuut…” He made a pause for dramatic effect as if he waited for some imaginary drumrolls. The curtains moved. A flutter of green and yellow cloth, a small hand, big brown eyes...

Tora froze. She was here.

“Surprise! ” Quincey, Gyu, and Poppy shouted in unison. “Happy birthday!”

“What the…?” Tora started, but stopped suddenly, at a loss of words. Words? What words? She was here. Nothing else mattered. 

His mind struggled to match her with his dream but failed. She was different. She glowed in a short strappy dress, its leaf green fabric printed with yellow and orange lilies, her hair weaved into two long braids, partly covered by a straw hat, her face beaming… Tora swallowed hard. How could he miss her that much in just a few days? He refrained from reaching out to pinch her cheek, touched by a light shade of pink. Of course, she looked different. She was real. 

“Bro, are you ok? Before getting mad again and overreacting, you should know this was Miss Poppy’s idea,” Quincey spoke, a trace of nervousness in his voice. 

The poor bastard, he always had had trouble reading people’s reactions. Tora was not mad. He was dumbstruck. The recurring dream was still fresh in his mind, and the sight of her made him forget everything else around them. Eyes fixed on Poppy, he hardly noticed Gyu looking back and forth between them. Putting two and two together. His jaw dropped, as the truth dawned on him. Smart cookie. 

Tora regained his composure and said, half-heartedly, “But my birthday is not until tomorrow...” 

“Oh yes, but it wouldn’t have been a surprise otherwise, would it?” said Quincey, relieved that his friend decided not to throw another tantrum. This was going to be a good day. 

“Here Bro, happy birthday. I hope you’ll like it,” said Gyu, approaching Tora and shoving a square package into his hands. “Come eat something, Young Ma...ahm, I mean Quincey ordered enough food to feed a small army over here,” he continued, casting an uncomfortable glance at Poppy, who did not move an inch. 

“Less gifting and more drinking,” declared Quincey, happy to break the tension and determined to make Tora have a good time, whether he liked it or not. “Oh, and in case you’re wondering, my gift is waiting for you at the apartment,” he added with a mischievous wink. He entered the tent, aiming for the small bar inside. Gyu followed. 

“Yeah, I’ll be right there.” Tora’s gaze returned to Poppy, a silent question hanging in the air. 

“Bobby…”

“I’m sorry I ghosted you, Tora,” Poppy said softly, looking into his eyes. "I needed time to think…about stuff. To figure out what I want."

She was so serious. If only that blush spreading like wildfire over her nose and ears didn't give her away. Tora closed in on her, feeling like he was walking on air, his heartbeat racing, his mind devoid of the heavy thoughts he carried until now, like boulders. 

"And… what do ya want, Bobby?" His voice low, close to her ear, meant only for her. He inhaled her scent, unnamed flowers mixed with sunshine and sea air, his breath on her neck raising goosebumps on her delicate skin. 

"Right now, some cake would be nice," she pushed him away and went inside. The press of her palms on his chest felt to him like a caress, a promise. _Very well, sweetheart. Let's do this your way._

***

Poppy sat on a beach towel, the hat and a large bag beneath her, her bare feet wriggling in the sand, knees brought to her chest. She traced her hands through the fine sand, absentminded, scooping every now and then small seashells, gathering them in a pile next to her. The wind had ruined her braids and now loose strands of hair fluttered freely over her bare shoulders. Lost in thought, she did not seem to notice it.

Tora stopped to draw breath. His gaze traveled across her body, taking in the heaviness of her breasts pressed against her knees, the fluid movement of her arms, the way her skin seemed to glow from within like she carried some kind of secret inside, some kind of magic that shone through and illuminated the space around her. 

He sat down in the sand next to her, carrying a small bowl full of fresh strawberries. 

“Want some?” Tora asked, putting the bowl between them. 

Poppy brushed the sand off her hands and smiled at him. 

“Sure, they look yummy,” she said, picking up a plump strawberry from the bowl. She took a bite. “Mmm...delish. Strawberries are my favorite fruits,” she added. 

Why was this familiar? Like he knew or seen it before? A strange sense of deja vu stirred in the back of his mind, like a blurred picture, like a children’s story the end of which he had forgotten. Poppy woke him up from his reverie, pointing towards the sea. 

“Did you not want to join them?”

Tora looked where Quincey and Gyu were swimming, caught in some weird competition, and shrugged. 

“Nah. The water’s too cold. Truth is…I don’t know how to swim. Never got the chance to learn I guess.”

“Oh, I could teach you!” Poppy beamed, excited. “I learned to swim one summer with my Dad. And then I used to go to this lake we have in Moonbright, with my friends, and we would compete about who is faster or who lasts longer under the water.”

Tora grinned revealing his dimples. “Did ya, now? Well, Bobby, I may take ya up on that. Some other time. If you’ll not disappear on me again…”

Poppy flushed a new shade of pink. This was fun, he had missed this. Seeing her react like that at mere words made him wonder how deep her skin would redden if he held her close in those salty waters. How far would her blush go under his touch? But once again she pulled away.

“Before I forget… my present to you." 

Poppy turned around to rummage in the bag. She produced a large conch shell and held it in her open palms. It was thick and white on the outside, with small flecks of gold and brown, spirally and bumpy towards the edges, and on the inside, glossy and smooth to the touch, fascinating, beautiful. Tora picked it up carefully and studied it in the sunlight. 

“I found it on a beach, a long time ago. They say that if you press the conch to your ear, you can hear the ocean waves crashing inside. This way you’ll always have a piece of the sea with you.” Poppy watched him tenderly. 

_What if that’s not enough?_ The echo of his child-self from the strange dream lingered like a shadow over him. The piercing feeling of deja-vu again, the sense of an imminent fall. He knew how that dream ended. But he would not have it. Not today. He put the shell down and looked at her, searching in her eyes a different answer, a different outcome. 

“What if that’s not enough?”

“Tora…” Her voice was soft, pleading. She averted her gaze, looking back at the rumbling sea. 

In the distance, their friends were still trying to break their personal records. They had swum pretty far out now. Two black dots where the otherwise aquamarine waters and pale blue sky blended together.

"What if it's not enough to have this from you, what if I want more? What if I want to come here every day with you? What if I want...you?”

She had been avoiding him, deflecting his remarks, not answering his straightforward questions. Sure, he enjoyed teasing her and he recognized desire, the delicious tension built up between them. But deep down he knew he wanted more than that. He wanted it all. And for the first time in all his relationships, he was scared. She needed to think, to come to her own conclusions. What if she did not feel the same way? What would he do then? 

She was still quiet. The nature around them stirred, a gust of wind blew her hair, obscuring her face from him. She looked so fragile and for a moment so far away from him. Tora felt a sudden rush of anger thinking of that bastard who hurt her. Who left her so…vulnerable. If she would have him, he would spend his life showing her how much beauty and strength she was hiding within.

“Shit, Bobby, I’m no good at this…. If ya just want a friend, I’ll respect that. But I want more. Just tell me if I’m alone in this…tell me what you want.”

If his senses had not been attuned to her in that very moment, he would not have heard the words, barely more than a whisper. 

“You are not alone.”

Tora was sure his heart just exploded. Or at least it stopped beating. He wanted to see her face, to convince himself that this was real. He scooted closer and brushed her hair aside, caressing her cheek. Poppy looked at him, a kaleidoscope of emotions dancing in her eyes. 

“I don’t know why you would choose someone like me, but… I want more too. I want you too.”

He cupped her face and leaned in, his forehead resting against hers. 

“Really?” He asked, his voice low and husky. “Are ya sure?”

She nodded slowly. Their lips met in the softest of touch, more comforting than words could ever be. The world dissolved around them. Tora felt her skin burning under his hands and pulled her closer. He covered her mouth with his, his tongue rushing to taste the sweetness of hers, the strawberry aroma still fresh on her breath. He felt her hands sliding over his wrists, then reaching further up his arms, holding onto him for dear life, anchoring herself to his body like a boat lost on stormy seas. 

He kissed her deeper, again and again, his own heartbeat matching hers, thundering beneath his fingers. They were both lost and found within each other, broken and mended back again, two halves of a whole. He pulled back, his breath ragged and warm, her mouth swollen and red, and eyes burning with desire. He should stop. They should stop. But she was so fucking beautiful, he could not get enough. He tucked her messy hair behind the ears and cradled her face again, pressing soft kisses on her forehead, her cheeks, nibbling her lips once more. His hands traveled down on her neck and bare shoulders and his mouth followed. He peppered her with kisses, as words fell from his lips onto each spot he touched. 

“I…am…so…fucking…happy.”

Poppy smiled wholeheartedly and wriggled under his touch. “We should get up... Quincey… the guys are swimming back…” 

Tora pressed a few more kisses into the crook of her neck. “Mhm…fuck’em. Don’t care.”

However, he pulled back, sitting next to her as they both looked toward the open sea. She resumed combing the sand for seashells. He casted her a side glance and this time the image of her did not fade away. She was real and she was here with him. His. And the dream shattered like a broken curse, Tora knew it would not trouble his sleep ever again. He had chosen. He felt impossibly light and full of joy at the same time. 

He felt a faint movement in the sand, beneath his palm. Without looking at him, supposedly intended on her pile of shells, Poppy sought his hand through the warm sand. Their fingers intertwined in a gritty embrace. He tilted his head back, closed his eyes, and inhaled deeply the salty smell of the sea now mixed with her closeness. Tora knew that from now on the sea will always smell like Poppy to him. 

_I chose you, Poppylan._

__

__


End file.
